I Believe the Children Are Our Future
by Emma CS Me
Summary: Dave Karofsky is just a kid. He couldn't have done this to Will. Children don't do that to their teachers, right? Trigger warning: rape.
1. Afternoon

**I Believe the Children Are Our Future**

**1: Afternoon**

Will's shoulders are still shaking by the time he manages to get back into his apartment.

He wants to cry. He leans against the door, finally alone, not having to put pressure on his... wound just to drive home, and he wants to cry. Wants to sob and wail and let out his grief for all the world to hear. Anything like that.

And for a split second, he imagines someone will be there. His glee kids will have decided he shouldn't be alone, like they did on Christmas. Emma will have noticed him running away after school and gotten concerned. Even Sue; maybe she decided to implant cameras in his apartment to spy on his preparations for regionals, and he's gotten home while the job is half-done.

He imagines Terri coming out to find him breaking down against the door to their home, but he shakes the thought away. He hurts too much already.

He doesn't understand that it could have happened. _How?_ He gave a boy detention, and tried to reach out to him, because... Because Will was concerned about him. That was a good thing to do. Things like this don't happen because of things like that.

He thinks of Kurt. Was it because Karofsky was so awful to him? Is this some kind of karmic punishment Will earned for just ignoring that; for pushing aside his loyalty to his former club member to try and help another kid?

Karofsky told him all this _stuff_, horrible things he can't get out of his head. He's going to be sick.

"_It's all your fucking fault, you faggot. Made 'em all respected and shit. You and your fucking club, gave Hummel some fucking guts. Let him into the fucking world. Let him into my fucking head; let him make me some kind of..."_

And Will vomits. Falls forward on all fours and lets sticky, slimy puke land on the floor.

God, Karofsky – Dave; you call your students by their first names – cried. He fucking _cried_ as he held Will down, lay on top of him, tore his...

Will shakes his head. He doesn't understand how it could have happened – David is _seventeen_. A kid. A child. A child who has done some horrible things, particularly to Kurt, but nothing irredeemable. That's _why_ he tried to reach out to David. He looked like he had genuinely made progress that week he was in Glee, and to see all that disappear... Will's never been the kind to just give up on a student. What kind of teacher would?

Then again, what kind of teacher does this happen to?

Will knows that – it doesn't happen this way. Children don't do this to their teachers. They're _kids_; they are, more or less, innocent. Teachers take advantage of their students sometimes – it's disgusting and horrible, but that's what happens. Not the other way around. Why would it?

Will can't think. Dave surely can't have meant to do what he did – he's seventeen. He didn't understand. Will must have done something, confused him somehow. He was the responsible adult in the situation, and he obviously let a kid that needed him down terribly.

On some level, Will knows that doesn't make any sense. He doesn't know what he's meant to have done, and what could possibly have made this his fault? It's not like he was unclear about saying no. Even for a child, what is there to get confused about?

But he knows, he just _knows_. Maybe he shouldn't have tried so hard. He must have spooked the boy – it's important to reach out to your students, of course, but you can only try so hard to save someone who doesn't want to be saved. Maybe Dave misinterpreted his intentions – Will did get him alone and then try to initiate an intensely personal conversation. Maybe he thought sex was what Will wanted. But how could he just ignore...?

It's all Will can do not to throw up again. He can't think straight. Instead, he slowly pushes himself up and sets about cleaning the floor and changing his (slightly bloody) dirty clothes, so he can look the reasonable, mature adult, even though he knows he's not going to feel it any time soon.


	2. Morning

**2: Morning**

When he wakes up, the world is still there.

"Well, the think is, when you're talking about drinks like that..." the voice on the alarm radio is blaring, and Will groggily stretches to turn it off. Not a good idea. He pulls against a dozen cuts and bruises, wincing in pain.

When he pushes himself up, he sees faint signs of blood on the sheets. Maybe his anal bleeding hadn't quite stopped. _I should go to the doctor,_ Will thinks logically, but – no. He can't, he won't. He expects... questions. Interrogation. Things that would make him _say_ who did this to him, and – no. He's just a kid, after all. What would happen? He'd have the boy sent to prison? What good would that do?

So he pushes himself out of bed and heads toward the shower. He remembers to adjust the temperature, and resists the urge to stay in there much longer than necessary. Far too much of a cliche, and besides, he'll be late for school.

He frowns when he realizes he hasn't even considered taking the day off. It just wasn't an option. He doesn't think he _should_ take the day off; he needs to get back into a normal routine quickly if he's going to be able to cope with this, and let (him) other people cope as well, but – it just strikes him as strange he didn't even _think_ of simply running away and not having to deal with the world anymore. He's not _that_ selfless, for god's sake.

He supposes he's just bypassing his normal thought processes or something. He drags himself out of the shower, dries himself off and starts to get dressed, wearing several layers in preparation for the day ahead (it's just Ohio and cold, okay?). When he brushes his teeth, the toothpaste sputters out thick and white onto the rim of the sink, and he remembers–

_The fuck? You like this, Mr. Schue? You fucking faggot; fucking faggy whore; could get you fucking arrested; it's all your fault..._

Will shakes the thought away as quick as he can. He _knows_ it wasn't his fault he... well, did that; he knows that didn't mean consent. Or at least, that's what he read in one of Emma's pamphlets this one time. He may have done a lot of things wrong, but that's not one of them.

He keeps getting ready. By the time he's out the door and in his car, he's still shaky and can't stop thinking about things he doesn't want to think about. But he thinks he can handle it.

* * *

"Schuester!"

_Oh god_. He really doesn't want to have to do this with Sue today. He can't keep his thoughts in check at the best of times; having to process her attitude and retort the best he can would just take too much out of him. Still, he guesses he doesn't have much of a choice.

He turns around with a sigh. "What do you want, Sue?"

She makes a 'tut-tut' sound at him. "What is that, William, not happy to see me? You know, just because I'm planning on taking you at Regionals, disemboweling you and using your guts to make the shelves in my new kitchen – figuratively, of course, unless I can get the carpenters in by then – is no reason to abandon the spirit of hospitality."

Will just shakes his head. He cannot possibly spare enough thought power for this. "...I repeat the question?"

Then, something weird crosses Sue's face. "Hey buddy, you okay? You look like the bastard lovechild of a llama and Michael Jackson."

And Will's jaw snaps wire shut, heart pounding; _oh god don't let her know something's up..._ "I – I'm fine."

She clearly doesn't believe him. "William. Were you aware I spent eight months in the employ of the US Navy, extracting information from pirates thanks a complicated mixture of bribery, cake and a chainsaw? I _know_ when you're lying. Spit it out already."

"I'm _fine_," Will insists. Sue would never understand. "How about you go back to creating your own fascist dictatorship made entirely of teenagers and leave me alone? Oh wait – you _can't_."

It's harsh. He knows how Sue feels about what happened with the Cheerios. However, right now he just needs her to _go_ and stop asking him questions before he can't quite manage to hold onto it all. Because he's _not_ going to break down about this; at least not here and now.

Anyway, the look of pain on her face only lasts for a second. "Very well," she says. "I think I shall call my reconnaissance officers situated at Westvale High School; I don't want Aural Intensity to lose their charming ability known as being much better than you. See ya 'round, William."

And she walks off, leaving Will alone with thoughts like _Thank god,_ and _Of course she has reconnaissance. Of course._ He sighs and heads for the teacher's lounge.

* * *

"Hey Will," says Emma as he takes a seat across from her. "How've you been?"

"...Okay," he says after some hesitation, hiding the flinch from sitting on _that_ as best he can. He's lucky enough Emma even vaguely forgave him for that whole thing when he drunk-dialed her; he can't screw things up again. "So, er... when is your first class today?"

"Will, I – I'm the guidance counselor, remember?"

_Oh yeah_. "Oh, uh, sorry, I just – sort of default small talk when I'm not quite sure what to say, you know how it is."

"It's quite alright," says Emma. "What about you?"

"Third period. Juniors."

"Class A or B?" Right. Will still doesn't understand how they got enough students for _two_ Spanish classes (wait, most of the students are terrified of most of the teachers here. And some of the teachers are terrified of – _stop._)

"B," he says. Then the back of his neck starts prickling, and...

Emma pulls a face. "Ah," she says. "Look, I know we shouldn't say this but – I do feel sorry for you, having to deal with that class. And most of the kids there too, of course; it's just – it seems to have put the most destructive influences in there altogether. I mean, you've got Karofsky and Azimio who tear up the place, and..."

Will freezes. _Of course. Him._

It's not like he didn't _know_. He's always known what class Karofsky's in, even if it usually takes him a few seconds to remember. Even if he didn't, he knew he'd have to deal with the boy eventually, just as part of work. He _knew _that. He supposes he just let himself block it out for a few seconds. _Selfish. Your students need you._

"...Yeah," he says, jaw loose. He almost feels like he's been to the dentist – ha. "But, you know, it's not really their fault – I mean, kids fall behind and lash out, and really the system fails them."

"Exactly," she says, and internally Will breathes this sigh of relief. It's like a confirmation he's doing the right thing; he hasn't just lost his mind. "I mean, the state of the American educational system is... but at the same time, you know, kids do have to be held responsible for _some_ of their actions. I mean, when you look at what happened to poor Kurt; it's just – just _revolting_ that someone, anyone can do that to another person and get away with nothing but a... And the _victim_, he's the one who... I mean, I know they're both young and don't _really_ know what they're doing, but it's just... unfair."

Will nods. _See what she means – you shouldn't have tried to reach out to him; you betrayed Kurt, didn't you?_ "Agreed," he says. "I feel so bad about what happened. I mean, even Sue..."

Emma nods along, then checks her watch. "Anyway, I, uh, have an appointment with Chrissie Atwood – take care of yourself, okay?" she says as she stands up. "As best you can."

_That's not very good, is it?_ "I'll try," he answers. "See ya, Emma."

* * *

The first two periods he spends staring at papers, going bleary eyed. Also, they pass much too quickly. It's not fair.

But he sucks it up and goes to his third period Spanish class anyway.

It's actually okay, because – Karofsky's not there. He calls the name on the roll and... nothing. He sends a look to Azimio and the boy just shrugs.

For a second, Will lets relief overwhelm him. Maybe Karofsky's taken the day off and Will gets some more time to figure out what on _Earth_ he's meant to do now. Maybe Karofsky's scared Will'll do something if he actually sees the boy who did that to him. Maybe Karofsky's running away in fear of Will taking legal action, and Will won't ever have to see him again. Hell, maybe even Kurt will be able to come back.

Ten minutes into the lesson, there's a knock on the door. Oh no, he's just late.

For a second, Will's world starts caving in. He wants to shake and cry and beg the boy to stay away, to just not _touch_ him again, or maybe Will just wants to run for his life. In any case, Will makes himself snap out of it quickly. He just needs to _hold on_, dammit.

"David," he says as the boy bursts in. "You're late."

And Karofsky just _smirks_ at him.

"Do you want me to stay back after class, Mr. Schue?"

He can't breathe. He can't _think_. This isn't okay. _David, please, stay back and talk to me. I'm worried about you._

"...No, that's quite alright. Just take your seat."

Karofsky nods and does just that. As he leans over to hear some kind of crude joke from Azimio, Will lets out that breath.

_Just hold on._


	3. Break time

**Author's Notes:** YEAH, REMEMBER THIS? Sorry guys for not updating for so long. Got kinda distracted. I additionally apologize for this chapter being so short and pointless, but I'm trying to get the damn thing back on its feet really.

* * *

**3: Break-time**

He manages to get through the class. He manages it by avoiding everyone's eyes, being very confusing and not answering many questions his students ask, but he still gets through it.

Afterwards, however, is an entirely different matter.

As his peers flee from their confines, Karofsky actually comes up and approaches him, getting an odd look from Azimio as he does. Will's mouth goes dry and his body freezes, both trying not to panic and suddenly going headlong into a flashback of what...

"Mr. Schue?"

He swallows and forces him back into the land of the living. "David," he says, still not meeting his eyes. "I told you that you didn't have to stay back after class."

"I know, it's just..." David shuffles on the spot, looking like any awkward teenager not sure how to start a conversation. "I needed to talk to you."

"...Do you need help with your Spanish work?" He doesn't want to talk about what happened yesterday. He's not ready to talk about what happened yesterday, especially not with the boy who did this to him in the first place, and the boy he can't be sure whether or not to blame. It's too hard and confusing and Spanish is much, much easier.

"Mr. Schue, about what happened yesterday..."

"If you don't mind, David, I'd rather not talk about that."

Karofsky pauses and Will feels like he might cry. _Don't be pathetic. Pull yourself together_.

"...You're not going to tell anyone about, uh, what happened, are you Mr. Schue?"

Will finally meets David's eyes, and he looks... innocent. Like a schoolboy far too worried about a mostly innocent secret getting out. Confused and anxious. He doesn't even sound like _Karofsky_, usually all machismo and anger.

Does he just not understand what happened yesterday? That Will actually said no and meant it? He's talking like this is Will's secret as much as his, something Will did and is responsible for. He wants to be sick when he starts thinking about taking advantage of a student like that, and thinking what happened yesterday was somehow...

He's been finding ways he's responsible all day though. He did invite David to talk to him alone. He thought he may have been misinterpreted, causing things to... He just thought David would have realized about the time he started screaming and begging him to stop. The boy can't possibly not _know_ what he really did, can he? And it might have been Will's responsibility to stop him to begin with. _In loco parentis_; he had a duty of care to Dave. Still has.

"...No," he says, sighing in resignation. "You don't need to worry about it."

"...Oh." Dave gives him a surprised, but relieved smile. "Thanks. Well, uh, see ya, Mr. Schue."

Karofsky runs off to follow his friends, and Will just stays sitting at his desk.

* * *

"Um, Mr. Schue?"

He jumps a little at being cornered by another student alone in a classroom, but he relaxes when he realizes it's just Finn. "Oh, hi Finn." Then he gets confused. "Wait, why are you here?"

"Uh, you're meant to be our sub for science," Finn says, shrugging. "I always felt like substitute teachers and actual teachers should be kept separate, but I guess we ran out. Where do substitute teachers come from anyway?"

_Shit_, Will thinks; he completely forgot he had a class to cover – in fact, he's not sure he even read the sheet to begin with. He feels like someone should have told him, but he knows its generally his responsibility to find out what classes he has.

He checks the sheet and sighs heavily. "Sorry, Finn," he says.

"It's cool. Everyone seems to be having a pretty cool time in there anyway; I only really came to find you 'cause I was getting worried."

Will gives him a look. "Worried?"

Finn shrugs again. "Er... look, Tina said you were acting really weird in her Spanish class. And then you freaking disappeared, which seemed like the sort of thing you wouldn't do, so yeah, I got worried a bit. Uh... was I not meant to do that?"

"What? Oh no, Finn, it's fine." _Crap, you can't be that obvious about it all_. "_I'm_ fine. Really Finn. You don't need to worry about me."

"...Right." Finn looks incredibly uncomfortable with this whole situation, and Will's not sure what to say to him. "I'm probably gonna do it anyway, y'know. Sorry."

"Fine," he says. "I assume you wanted me to come actually do my job?"

"Well not really if it can be avoided, because everyone's having a good time not having to do any work and they'll get mad at me so... I only really came here to check if you were okay."

"...Oh." Will doesn't even know what to think; the students can't ever know because he shouldn't have let it happen in the first place, but it's Finn and he trusts Finn, and dear god he wants someone to fix all this for him and he always thought Finn–

"Mr. Schue? You still with me?"

"What?" He has to snap out of it. It's not Finn's responsibility to deal with. It's not anyone's but his own, and he can't keep doing things like that.

Yes, he is capable of acknowledging that on some level, this is most likely incredibly unhealthy. But at least it's unhealthy for _him_, not the people he cares about. Not the students.

All he's ever really wanted is to be a good teacher.

"If fine, Finn. Don't worry about me." He smiles, and Finn gives him an odd nod. "And yes, I do actually have to go and do my job now. So, I apologize for the inconvenience."


End file.
